The Thread of the Thing
by Petronille
Summary: "There's something wrong with the girl - and you know it, Joshua!" Abigail exclaimed. "She's fey! Send her back to France!" The story of Collins cousin Trifine de Kermerrac, the curse Angelique Bouchard brought upon Barnabas Collins and his family, the consequences of trifling with those of Fae blood, and Trifine's return to Collinwood in 1967 to set the wrong things right.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Dark Shadows,**_** but all original characters are mine.**

**Author's Note: I picture a young Isabelle Adjani as Trifine. There will be some mention of historical characters in this, particularly given the timing of the first part of the story. And since Josette and Natalie du Pres are from Martinique, whom do you think they might know?**

**The Thread of the Thing**

_The parfum de Trianon, which he had created with such care, wafted about her, and, astonished, he realized that it had gone off. In the mysterious alchemy of the scented liquid and skin, the bewitching odor of the tuberose had smothered all other elements. Yet he knew he had used the dangerous flower sparingly. Something harsh and brutal had made its way sinuously into the exquisite fragrance, like a premonition of misfortune.  
-_from _A Scented Palace: The Secret History of Marie Antoinette's Perfumer,  
_by Elisabeth de Feydeau

**Chapter One**

Chapter Song:_ Changes, _by Stars.

_The Colegate Home, outside of Baltimore, Maryland, 1794.  
_  
Trifine de Kermerrac had been a child of eight years when she had first heard the bells of Ys ringing at dawn.

They had been staying at Finistère for the summer because Maman would not get out of bed after little Felix and little Gabriel had died, and Papa had thought that the sea air would do Maman some good and give her some respite from the demands of her duties as the queen's lady-in-waiting. Trifine had pouted for nearly two days, for she had wanted to spend the sweet summer days with Madame Royale and the Dauphin and the little Duc de Normandie and be spoiled and cosseted by the queen and _forget_ the sadness of losing her brothers.

She had awakened at dawn with the music of the bells ringing in her ears and resonating through her soul and through the deepest caverns of her heart. She woke her nurse, who dressed her quickly though bleary eyes and yawns. "Come, come, we must go down to the beach!" Trifine had insisted, pulling on Nounou's hand and hurrying down to the beach from the villa Papa had rented for them.

"Why, mademoiselle?" Nounou had asked, rubbing her eyes. Trifine had whirled to face Nounou, placing her hands on her hips imperiously as a great lady might—like the Duchesse de Polignac, perhaps.

"If I wish to go to the beach, then you must come with me!" Trifine exclaimed. "Don't you hear them?"

"Hear what?"

"The bells! The bells of Ker-Ys!" And Trifine sprinted down the path to the beach, picking up the skirts of her muslin gown as she did so, and that must have jarred Nounou awake, for the nurse ran after her as quickly as she could.

A mist from the sea enveloped the beach, and though she could hear Nounou calling her name, Trifine paid the old woman no mind as the sound of the ringing bells from deep within the sea sounded within her ears. She ran after the sound, as it called to her and beckoned her to follow it, as it sang through her veins and almost took command of her voice.

_And there—do you not see it, little one? Do you not see?_

"Oh!" Trifine cried out, clapping her little hands to her mouth, for there in the mist blowing in from the sea, reflected in the waters beneath, stood the city, its towers gleaming like pearls and quartz in the dim sunlight, mighty and proud and brilliant…

_You are one of us, little one. This is your home._

"Oh! It's so lovely!" Trifine exulted, bounding down toward the sea, ignoring the cold of the water on her bare feet and legs as she waded in and looked for the causeway. "How do I get in? Is there a path?"

_Oh, little one, have faith. There is._

And she saw it, and was ready to step up onto it, when she heard the call of, "Mademoiselle! Mademoiselle! Where are you?"

"Here, Nounou—here!" Trifine turned around, making her way closer to shore.

"Stay there, mademoiselle!" Nounou shouted through the mist. "I will come to you!"

_Oh, little one…come to us…_

"No!" Trifine cried out. "No, I can't come to you—not now! My maman needs me, you see…"

And then they began to clang more loudly, the sound echoing throughout her, deep into her soul.

The bells.

"Mademoiselle!" She felt Nounou's arms around her waist as the woman pulled her ashore. "You stupid little thing! You could have drowned!"

"No, Nounou, no, I wouldn't have drowned," Trifine contradicted through chattering teeth when they were safely ashore. "The city…the bells…"

"You selfish, spoiled child! When your papa finds out…"

And of course Papa _did_ find out.

And that was when Papa had decided it would be best for her to go to the finest convent school in Nantes, until the queen wrote to him and told him that the dauphin missed him, and that he could entrust Trifine to her care if Maman was still ill.

But the _bells._

They still called to her, and she would waken at night with tears on her face and a great heaviness in her heart, even _here, _here in Maman's country, where there was no Terror and where they lived quite comfortably on the money Papa had managed to put away before that fateful July day in 1792. What had remained of the world Trifine had always known was gone, gone forever, and Papa had managed to procure the needed papers so that she and Maman could flee to England from Calais. She and Maman had passed three weeks in Dover until they had been able to book passage on a ship to Baltimore, and from there they had traveled to her mother's family home in the city's outskirts.

Maman had grown maudlin of late, for Papa was still in France and there was no word of when he would arrive in the States. Trifine suspected that it was another spell of melancholy, though when her mother developed a fever and began to cough, it was clear that it was something else.

As the months had worn on, Maman's cough had worsened, and she'd grown pale and thin. It was something much worse than the spells of melancholy that had always come and gone. And then she had begun to cough up blood, very discreetly into a lace-edged handkerchief at first to try and hide it from Trifine. But Trifine knew; she saw the specks of blood on the handkerchief as her mother would try to fold it up as quickly as she could.

It was the dreaded disease that had taken the lives of little Dauphin Louis Charles and his sister, Princess Marie-Sophie.

Her grandfather called her into his study after the doctor had been sent for.

"It's consumption, I'm afraid," William Colegate said gravely as he handed Trifine a snifter of cognac—cognac that her father had sent him a year ago. "I'm very sorry, my dear."

Trifine sat ramrod straight in her chair as she cradled the snifter carefully in her trembling hands. "You've written to Papa, haven't you? Papa must know…"

William inclined his head. "It might be best if you wrote to him," he told Trifine. "He would take it best from you, I think."

Trifine nodded briefly, her throat going dry as she wondered what she would say to her father. _Maman is dying. Come to us at once, Papa. We need you so._

"Dr. Webster thinks it best that your mother spend some time at the seaside. It will only help her lungs. I'll write to your granduncle this evening; I'm sure that he will extend his hospitality to you. He always did dote on your mother…and he has always been eager for news of you."

Trifine took a sip of cognac to steady her nerves. "Won't he find it to be an inconvenience, Grandpapa?"

Here William Colegate laughed. "My dear girl, your granduncle Joshua would never find it to be an inconvenience to open his house up to his ailing niece and her daughter. As he himself would say of it: 'We are family, after all, aren't we?'"

"Their house is by the sea?" Trifine said.

"Its grounds almost reach the ocean, if you can believe it."

"I'd like to see the ocean again," Trifine murmured, turning to stare out the window. _And hear it. And breathe in the air and taste the salt and feel alive again…_

William smiled wanly. "And it's the same ocean that you've always known and loved. You're just on the other side of it, Trifine."

She took comfort in those words. For all of the waters of the world eventually flowed together, didn't they? The rain that watered the flowers in the gardens might have once been waves that crashed upon the shores of her beloved Brittany.

_But we can't go back. We can never go back. _

Later that evening she wrote to her father, informing him of her mother's illness and begging him to come to them as soon as possible. It might be difficult, she was knew, for it had even been difficult for Papa to get the needed papers for her and Maman to sail to England. "But there's always a way, Trifine. I might have to bribe the highest officials, but there's always a way," Papa had said as they had hidden in the family _hotel particulier _after all of the bloodshed, as she had reached for her rosary, hidden deep in the pocket of her gown, to pray for the brutally murdered Princesse de Lamballe.

_There must be some way, Papa. Some way._

And as she heard her mother coughing from the next room, she felt tears prick her eyes.

_You must come back to us, Papa,_ she wrote. _You must._

* * *

The portrait of Susannah Collins Colegate as a bride newly arrived to her husband's home hung in the parlor, and during her time at her grandfather's house, Trifine had paused many a time to gaze at it. Susannah had been very beautiful, there was no denying it, with auburn hair, dark brown eyes, and a proud expression. Yes, she could see a bit of a resemblance between Susannah and her own mother, Katharine, no, _Kitty,_ perhaps throughout the eyes and definitely in the quirk of the mouth and the color of the hair. And then Trifine tilted her head to see what she may have inherited from Susannah. _Grandmamma._

Perhaps the shape of the eyes, and certainly the small, straight nose, and the pouting lips, but that was all. Trifine had the high cheekbones and the dark brown hair and the dark blue eyes of her Breton ancestors. Ancestors who, it was said, were descended from one of King Arthur's knights and who had served the Dukes of Brittany until the very end, when Anne of Brittany's inheritance had passed to her daughter, Claude, and in turn to Claude's cousin, King Francis, binding the little duchy to France forever.

Joshua Collins did write back to Grandpapa, and indeed Grandpapa had predicted correctly: Joshua would not turn his back on family. He and his wife had room for Kitty and little Trifine and even Trifine's little pug brought with her from France. "After all, we're all family, aren't we?"

So William Colegate accompanied his daughter and granddaughter to his late wife's ancestral home of Collinwood, which lie in the city of Collinsport, all the way up in Maine. Trifine held Choupette in her arms the entire way, and buried her face in the dog's fur when her mother began to cough.

Trifine remembered her granduncle Joshua, who had come to France to see them with his son Barnabas and Grandpapa, just after Gabriel had been born. Trifine had been eight at the time, and had cried out, "Pépa!" when she had seen her grandfather, whom she vaguely remembered as the man who had bounced her on his knee and let her play horse with him and who now sent her all of the pretty clothes and the dolls.

"You see, Félix? This is Pépa—_our _Pépa," she had told her five-year-old brother triumphantly. She, a child of nine, who believed herself so worldly because the queen had taken to her maman and had invited them both to the Trianon where she had played with Madame Royale and the Dauphin. She had amused Granduncle Joshua and Cousin Barnabas so as she had told them stories, the same stories that she had heard from her nounou and that she would repeat to Madame Royale and the Dauphin once they returned to court after Maman's confinement was over. She had nattered on with cousin Barnabas in French, and she had shown him the path to the beach from the Château de Kermerrec, outside of Saint-Malo.

"We own this. _All _of this!" she had told him when he had walked with her one afternoon, reaching her arms into the air to express her point. "All the way to the sea."

"And do you own the sea?" Barnabas had asked, laughing, sitting down on a rock and setting aside his walking stick with the wolf's head decoration on its top.

Trifine pouted. "Such a question, cousin! You know we don't!"

"You're quite the little mademoiselle," Barnabas remarked.

"Do _you_ own the sea?" she had demanded, putting her hands on her hips as she had seen Madame de Polignac do.

He had laughed. "Cousin."

"Cousine," she corrected.

"Cousine," he had said, bowing his head, "I don't own the sea, but perhaps, one day, the ships that will cross it."

She shook her head. "Poor man."

"Why do you say that?"

"The sea can't be owned or tamed. It swallowed a city. _Lá_." She pointed at the sea. "Two, in fact. Ys and Lyonesse lie beneath the sea. So there's that."

And again, he had laughed.

And Barnabas Collins would eventually pay for all of his laughter.

**Reviews, please and thanks? If needed, I can also provide a glossary for some of the French phrases used.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Dark Shadows, **_**but all original characters are mine.**

**Author's Notes:**

**This most likely not an OC/Barnabas romance. Yes, there will be some lamenting over what-ifs and lost chances, but Trifine has her own path to follow before her return to Collinwood in 1967, much of which will have to do with Angelique and her cohorts and what they stand for. Though, really, it is quite sad: What if Barnabas had been able to go to France even without his father's permission to fetch his cousin and her daughter and husband while things got really bad during the Revolution? That's another story itself (the song to which is _Winter Song _by Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson and _New York _ by Snow Patrol)._  
_**

**Trifine's father served under Rochambeau during the American Revolution. He arrived in spring 1778, among some of the first soldiers to be sent to the American colonies after the treaty had been signed in February. This places Trifine's birthdate in January 1779, making her about fifteen at this time.**

**A lot of the extreme fashion changes came about after the fall of Robespierre's government in late summer of 1794. The new government, the Directory, gave rise to the merveilleuses and incroyables. I could imagine Abigail and even Joshua being horrified if Trifine chose to dress like a merveilleuse!**

**Trifine _is_ a saint's name, believe it or not. It's from the story of Breton saints Trévour and Trifine, which some think is a precursor to the Bluebeard fairy tale.**

**In 1793, a treaty was signed in England placing Martinique under British supervision until the French monarchy was restored. By April 1794, the British has seized control of Martinique and things went back to the way they were before the Revolution started. This would, I think, set the scene for Barnabas being sent to Martinique to look into business opportunities and the courtship of and subsequent engagement to Josette.**

**The Thread of the Thing**

**Chapter Two**

Chapter Song: _Keep Your Head Up, _Ben Howard

"Kitty." Joshua Collins embraced his niece quickly, but even during that brief moment he could feel how thin she had gotten, how she seemed hollow and brittle. "And William." He held out his hand, and William wrung it, eyes bright with gratitude. "And little Trifine."

The girl had grown up splendidly, Joshua thought. She would no doubt would have made a good marriage had the monarchy not been toppled in France, given her close ties to the Queen's inner circle. She would have no problem finding a husband here in the States.

He made the formal introductions, of course: his wife Naomi, his much younger brother Jeremiah, his son Barnabas, his daughter Sarah, his sister Abigail. He had feared Abigail's reaction. Susannah had been the prettier and more sophisticated of the two of them, and she had married William Colegate for love, and Abigail had been jealous of the happiness Susannah had found. But Susannah's happiness was to be short-lived, as she had died after a miscarriage when Kitty had been quite young. Abigail had only been slightly involved in Kitty's upbringing; she had deemed the girl to be too spirited and much too indulged by William, at which point William consulted Naomi, whose approach toward childrearing was much kinder.

And then there had been the marriage to Laurent de Kermerrec. It had been a love match; Laurent had fought in New York with Rochambeau's army and had proven himself to be a valiant soldier. He had been smitten with Kitty when they had first met at a small dinner party given by one of William's friends. It had been a whirlwind courtship, and Abigail had been horrified that Kitty was not only marrying a _papist,_ but that she was three months gone with child. "But then he _is _French…You have heard tales of the immorality and decadence of the French court. Why, if he takes Kitty away to France and she's presented at court…She'll be damned, Joshua, _damned!"_

"You know there's something wrong with the girl, Joshua," Abigail hissed into his ear now as Kitty and Trifine came down. "_Look _at her!"

"I've looked at her, Abigail," Joshua replied, "and I only see a very lovely young girl. You should do your best to be kind to her; Kitty is dying, and we know nothing of Laurent's fate. She _is_ family, after all."

That seemed to quiet Abigail for now. Joshua watched as Sarah reached down to pet the little pug Trifine had insisted on bringing with her. "Did she come from France with you?" Sarah asked.

Trifine laughed and shook her head. "Oh, no! Grandpapa bought her for me when Maman and I arrived. He says he couldn't bear to see me so sad, and he brought her home for me one day when he returned from a trip to Baltimore." Trifine kissed the dog's soft fawn-colored head. "I _do_ adore my Choupette, though!" She picked up the dog and followed Sarah out to the back garden as the little girl chattered on, eager to know all she could about life in France. Kitty coughed slightly, and Joshua hurried to her side, but she held up her hand to indicate that she didn't need his assistance.

"It doesn't surprise me that Sarah has taken to Trifine," Joshua remarked. "A pity the two never met before now."

"A pity indeed, Uncle." She took his arm when he offered it. "It's more of a pity that Cousin Barnabas isn't here to see her. Whenever he would visit us in France he would tease her so! Papa says he's in Martinique seeing to business interests?"

"He is," Joshua replied. "Perhaps I should send for him?"

"Oh, no!" Kitty exclaimed. "I couldn't do that to you or to him, Uncle, if he's there for business reasons! I'm sure he'll be home soon…"

"You haven't given thought to Trifine's future, niece?" Joshua said quietly. "Particularly with your unfortunate illness?"

Kitty blinked rapidly, turning away from him. "My father will see to her welfare, as I'm sure her father will, when he comes to us…"

"And if Laurent has…fallen victim to the Terror? You know that we would only wish for Trifine to have the best future possible."

"Uncle, Trifine is still a child! Let's not make plans for her future now!" Kitty said. She burst into another fit of coughs, holding her handkerchief to her mouth.

"Her world has been upended, Kitty. Doesn't the girl deserve some certainty in her life?" Joshua persisted as he placed his hand on her back to support her.

"Certainty?" Kitty echoed. "Her grandfather can provide her with certainty. When Laurent comes to us…"

"And if he doesn't?"

Kitty sighed deeply and broke away from him. She closed her eyes for a moment, and it seemed as though the fine veneer had cracked; the torment and weariness Kitty had been hiding for so long finally revealed themselves. "What do you propose, Uncle?"

"I propose that we only think of Trifine's future," Joshua said. "Have you seen to educating her further since you arrived?"

"Trifine was educated at Penthémont*, one of the best convent schools in Paris! And her time at Versailles…"

"She would only have learned to be a courtier. If you remain here and wish her to marry well, she will need to learn how to be a proper housewife."

"My father already has her involved with tracking the household expenses," Kitty retorted once they got into the house. She let the maidservant take her hat and gloves, then followed Joshua into his study. "We know what will be expected of her, and we're trying to prepare her for it."

"Why not have her take lessons with Sarah's governess while you're here?" Joshua suggested, letting Kitty sit first. "She seems to be a clever girl, and we ought to do our best to keep her mind sharp."

Kitty leaned back in the armchair, staring at one of the many paintings that decorated the room. "You seem to be much too concerned about Trifine's future, Uncle. Have you begun to secretly make plans for her without her grandfather and me knowing?"

"I have not begun to make plans for her, but I only hope that you see the possibilities that I can."

"And what possibilities are those?"

"Don't be coy with me, niece, I know that you see them. Your daughter is of a marriageable age, whether or not you and her grandfather see it, and she stands to inherit the Colegate estate. If the monarchy is restored in France, she would stand to inherit more." Joshua regarded Kitty with a stony expression.

"And you see the benefits of it," Kitty murmured, passing her hand over her forehead. "The wheels in your head have been turning, Uncle. What are you thinking?"

Joshua raised an eyebrow. "I'm a businessman, Kitty," he said lightly, "and like all businessmen, I speculate on the outcomes of possible opportunities. I'm sharing those speculations with you."

Kitty's brows drew together into a glare. "You presume too much, Uncle, to plan for _my_ daughter as though she were your own. You have a son and a brother who are of marriageable age as well. Perhaps you should concern yourself with their futures, and I will concern myself with my daughter's."

Joshua's brows rose in surprise. Kitty had always had a bit of a rebellious streak in her—it had come out when she had contrived to marry Laurent—but her years in France and her former rank as a baronne had made her proud and haughty. _She is a Collins through and through, though she doesn't even bear the name._ And he would have to be more subtle.

"I only ask that you consider what's best for Trifine, Kitty," he told her quietly. "There is a chance that the monarchy might never be restored. America could very well be Trifine's permanent home, and you must think of what her future might be here."

Kitty coughed again, and Joshua saw that all color had left her face and that suddenly, she looked very tired. "Forgive me," she said, "but may I retire to my room? I'm afraid I'm feeling rather ill."

"Of course," he replied. "I certainly hope you feel better, Kitty."

Kitty murmured her thanks before leaving the room. Joshua rose from his chair and poured himself a sherry, though it didn't take the bitter taste from his mouth.

* * *

Trifine felt the terrible picking of another headache start underneath her right eye. She suggested to Sarah that they return to the house. Sarah grudgingly agreed, for she had been enjoying playing fetch with Choupette in the back garden while Trifine had answered her questions.

Sarah had taken Trifine as far from the house as she was allowed, though she had pointed at the edge of the cliff so far away and said, "You can see the ocean from there, if you want to. Mamma says I'm not supposed to go too close to the edge of the cliff, or I could fall."

"Your mamma is right," Trifine replied. She glanced toward the edge of the cliff and shivered at the sudden cold breeze that seemed to come in from the sea. "Come, now. Let's go to the back garden and I'll tell you all about the palace…"

And tell Sarah about the palace she had, from the stories of the queen and playing with the royal children and afternoons spent in the Hameau while her mother was in their rooms at the palace ailing again.  
"And there was a menagerie," Trifine went on as Sarah came to sit on the bench at her side.

"A menagerie?" Sarah echoed. "What kinds of animals were there?"

"Oh, there were so many! Lions and tigers…and an elephant and a giraffe…and a great animal called a rhinoceros that had a sharp tusk on its nose…"

"I've seen pictures of rhinoceroses," Sarah said matter-of-factly. "I know what they are. But you actually _saw_ one."

Yes, Trifine had actually _seen_ a rhinoceros. But that meant nothing when there was so much more going on in the world.

"And you were able to have oranges almost anytime you asked."

Trifine had forgotten that. Not everyone had an orangerie in their back garden. The Collinses certainly didn't, for all of they money they had.

At dusk, they ventured inside. Sarah was to take her dinner in the nursery before going to bed. Trifine kissed her good night and promised more stories, though she wasn't sure which ones she would tell.

When she emerged from her own rooms after dressing for dinner, she encountered Grandaunt Naomi in the hallway. "Will you walk downstairs with me, Trifine?" Naomi asked.

Trifine stepped closer to Naomi. "Of course," she said, picking up the skirt of her silk gown so that she could make the descent more easily.

"Such a dear girl you are," Naomi remarked, reaching out and squeezing Trifine's hand. Trifine thought that she could smell sherry on the woman's breath, but she resisted wrinkling her nose at the scent. "I'm very pleased you and your mother have come to stay with us, though I wish things were different."

"So do I," Trifine said. "I wish so much was different…"

Naomi inclined her head, smiling at Trifine affectionately. "Yes, but we must content ourselves with our lot."

Trifine stared at Naomi disbelievingly. "I don't think I will ever content myself with losing my mother, Grandaunt."

"No, I suppose one can never content oneself with that," Naomi acknowledged. Trifine managed a small smile and tucked Naomi's hand into her elbow.

"But we must always look for happiness where we can find it,." Trifine said brightly, and this seemed to lift Naomi's mood.

"Sarah seems to have taken a liking to you," Naomi said as they continued down the staircase. "I was thinking that you ought to help her with her French while you're here. Would you like to do that, Trifine?"

"I couldn't refuse, Grandaunt," Trifine replied. "I brought a few books with me—_The Tales of Madame d'Aulnoy _and _The Lais of Marie de France…_and they're in French. Those would help her learn."

"You're a kind girl, Trifine." Naomi murmured. "A good, kind girl."

_A good, kind girl._

"Thank you, Grandaunt," she replied, and she averted her eyes from Naomi's once they reached the bottom of the staircase.

And she felt a metallic chill on the back of her neck, as though someone were pressing the blade of a razor to it, ever so gently, ever so threateningly.

_Trifine._

"Papa," she whispered, her eyes suddenly filling with tears.

_I am sorry that I can't come to you, my dearest. You must be strong now. You must take care of your mother._

"Papa," she croaked.

"Trifine." Naomi came to the girl's side. "Are you all right?"

Trifine started when she felt Naomi's hand on her shoulder, then dashed the tears from her eyes and managed a watery smile. "I'm well, Grandaunt. I only miss my father…"

"Of course you would, dear girl." Naomi gazed at her tenderly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "Put on your best face for dinner. You can weep all you want to later."

Somehow that struck Trifine. _Does she feel this way often? _"Thank you," Trifine mustered, following Naomi into the dining room.

* * *

Her mother was not at dinner. Grandpapa said that she was feeling poorly and had retired early, only wishing for some chicken bouillon and bread.

The talk at dinner was mundane. Jeremiah and Joshua spoke of business with William, and Joshua spoke of how Cousin Barnabas was to return home from Martinique for a short visit.

"Why is Cousin Barnabas in Martinique?" Trifine demanded presently, dropping her fork on her plate with a loud clink. Joshua and Jeremiah glanced up at her in surprise, Naomi gasped at the abruptness of her question, and Abigail glared daggers at her for her poor manners. Only William seemed unruffled by his granddaughter's inquisitiveness.

"He's there to see to business concerns. The new treaty with the English has opened up all sorts of opportunities for the Collins shipping empire, Trifine," William said calmly.

"Ah, I see," Trifine replied, nodding.

"How you spoil her, William!" Abigail exclaimed, daintily blotting her lips with her napkin. "A young lady such as she _should not _concern herself with such things."

"I am her grandfather, Abigail. I ought to indulge Trifine's whims and answer any questions she has," William retorted.

"You spoil her too much, as have her parents. If anyone ought to bring discipline to her life, it is you!" Abigail persisted.

William eyed Abigail levelly. "Madam, how I treat my only granddaughter is my own choice, is it not? The de Kermerrec shipping interests remain strong in Nantes and Calais, despite the Revolution! Trifine will eventually inherit this. It's best that she's aware of what occurs…"

"Nonetheless," Trifine said quickly, trying to draw attention from the brief conflict between Abigail and William, "it will be wonderful to see Cousin Barnabas again. The last time I saw him, I was but twelve! How he teased me! But then, how he always teased me! But he always made up for it. Grandpapa, do you remember when he brought me the jade earrings from China? I still have those!"

"You can tell him that when he returns in a few weeks," Joshua said gently. "He'll be very pleased to see you, Trifine."

"No doubt he will tease me mercilessly," Trifine remarked dolefully.

"My dear girl, I think he will be dazzled by how lovely and elegant you have become."

"He will be exhilarated to see you and your mother have returned from France safely after the Revolution," Jeremiah said briskly. "We were concerned for all of you when we heard of it, Trifine. Barnabas had it in mind to fetch you and your mother from France straightaway when we heard the mobs had escorted the king and queen back to Paris. Of course, there were business matters to see to, and we had no idea of how horrible things would become." Jeremiah eyed Joshua earnestly for a moment.

"But it doesn't matter now, darling," Naomi said. "You and your mamma are here, and you're safe."

Trifine's eyes burned and filled with tears again. "But Papa…"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I only wish Papa were here," Trifine said, biting her lip, though there was more to it. So much more.

***Penthémont, located in Paris, was one of the most fashionable convent schools in pre-Revoltionary France. Aside from educating young ladies of the aristocracy, the convent also served as a refuge for aristocratic ladies in trouble. Thomas Jefferson's daughters were educated here, and Rose de Beauharnais, later to become Empress Josephine, sought refuge here when she separated from her first husband, Alexandre.**

**Trifine will be courted by and will run away with a rather lengendary historical figure. "The best way to beat a curse is to outrun it," he will say. WHO IS HE?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Dark Shadows, **_**but all original characters are mine.**

**The Thread of the Thing**

**Chapter Three**

Chapter Song: _Weeping Willow,_ by The Hush Sound  
**  
**_Is Papa dead? Papa can't be dead. He can't be. Is he?_

Trifine found it difficult to focus on the book she was reading, even though it was one of her favorites, _The Book of the City of Ladies, _by Christine de Pisan. The words seemed to swim on the page, and she set the book aside, rubbing her eyes.

She hadn't slept last night, either, turning the same questions over and over in her mind. _Is Papa dead? He can't be dead, he's going to come back to us. But I felt the cold blade of the guillotine on the back of my neck, and I heard him speak as though he were right next to me, as though he were saying good-bye._

She couldn't tell her mother. Just like she had never told her mother about hearing the bells of Ys.

And what would it do to her mother, if she divulged her fears that her father was dead?

She couldn't tell Grandpapa. And she certainly didn't trust her granduncle Joshua, despite his veneer of benevolence toward her. Abigail was certainly not a confidante, Sarah too young, and Jeremiah might laugh at her and tell her to stop reading all of those French novels. There was Naomi, but who knew of the woman's state of mind after too much sherry?

It would be a secret that she would keep close to her heart, one that she couldn't tell anyone.

The pain started under her right eye again, like always, spreading through her head like wildfire and making her vision blur. She hated the headaches and the visual disturbances that came with them, for she would be unable to read her books, something that had always been very near and dear to her. Her father had always fancied himself an intellectual and had amassed quite the library at Château de Kermerrac and had passed a love of books and learning on to his daughter. He had been indulgent enough to build a library for her in their piteous little rooms at Versailles so that she could have her beloved books with her wherever she went. And it made her want to weep, for he had been careful to pack the books away and send them overseas to Grandpapa after the storming of the Bastille. "So that you shall always have them, darling girl, wherever you are," he had said.

_He can't be dead. He will come back. And we will all be together._

* * *

As the days had worn on, and April had passed into May, no word came from France. There was news that Cousin Barnabas was to return to Martinique; Naomi had mentioned in one of her episodes that he was courting a pretty Creole girl there and that Joshua had high hopes for the marriage. "Perhaps you know the name, dear? Du Pres; the girl's aunt is Natalie du Pres, and she is a comtesse."

_"Was." _Trifine could not help but correct Naomi.

"Yes, she was. What was the word you used again, Trifine?"

"_Ci-devant."_

"Yes, she's a _ci-devant_ comtesse. But she still is very proud of her title."

Trifine racked her brains and tried to remember the name. Du Pres—_yes._ Madame de Polignac had made fun of Natalie du Pres once, calling her a boring old Creole and imitating the comtesse's domineering manner. The comtesse was known to keep company with Rose de Beauharnais, the wife of Alexandre, the Vicomte de Beauharnais, with whom Papa had fought and upon whom, it was whispered, Abbé Leclos had based the character of Valmont in _Les liaisons dangereuses._ That volume had secretly made its way around the older students at Penthémont and had found its way into Trifine's hands.

She excused herself from the presence of her grandaunts in the salon and went up to her bedroom to lie down. It was quiet and cool up here, and the pain in her head subsided. Naomi brought some tea up and asked Trifine if she ought to send for the doctor. Trifine shuddered at the mention of this; all the doctor would do was bleed her, and she had no desire for that. Politely she refused, gratefully accepting the tea.

Her mother's health had not improved; while the sea air was good for her lungs and helped with the symptoms, Kitty was slipping away from all of them. William, unable to bear it, had returned to the house outside of Baltimore last week to see to some business. "You'll be able to manage, my dear," he had told Trifine gently. "Granduncle Joshua has promised that he has your best interests at heart. And be strong for your mother, for this is when she needs you most."

It had become a familiar refrain from her grandfather, from everyone. _Be strong for your mother._

She sipped the tea Naomi had brought her and rubbed at her temples with her index fingers. The pain lessened a bit and she felt well enough to go downstairs. She could hear her mother in the sitting room, talking quietly with Naomi as she languidly worked on some drawings in her sketchbook. It was a familiar sight, Trifine thought, seeing her mother halfheartedly embroidering or sketching or staring out the window, lost in her own thoughts with an open book in her lap.

"Trifine—you're up and about. Are you feeling better?" Naomi asked her. Trifine entered the sitting room and sat down on the chair beside the chaise longue her mother was occupying.

"Much better, thank you. The tea worked wonders," Trifine said. Kitty smiled at her daughter affectionately and reached for Trifine's hand.

"I'm pleased you're feeling better, darling, for we've just received the most wonderful news: Your cousin Barnabas arrives home today. Naomi just received the letter yesterday afternoon from Boston." Kitty's blue eyes seemed brighter than they had in awhile, despite the dark circles underneath them.

"That _is_ wonderful," Trifine replied.

"He has news of your father," Naomi said. "The du Pres family in Martinique still has some connections with the _ci-devant_ nobles who fled to other countries in Europe. Barnabas was kind enough to ask Monsieur du Pres to use those connections to see about your father."

"Barnabas has always been kind to us, Naomi," Kitty remarked pleasantly. "We always enjoyed his visits…such stories he always had to tell!"

"And he always teased me so, Maman! But he was never cruel…" Trifine said.

"Barnabas could never be cruel," Naomi said, smiling at Trifine. "He teases Sarah as much as I'm sure he teased you, but he loves her very much."

Trifine glanced at her mother, who leaned back against the cushions on the chaise and returned to her sketching.

"Why not read to us, darling?" Kitty suggested. "I'd love to hear the lais of Marie de France. Why not go upstairs and get your book?"

Trifine rose and went to get the one of the books she had brought with her. When she returned, Kitty had put her sketchbook aside as Naomi picked up her needlepoint.

"Trifine has always read to me when I'm ill," Kitty told Naomi. "Why not read _The Lai of Guigemar_, darling? That one has always been one of my favorites!"

Trifine opened the book and began to read to her mother and Naomi. Kitty closed her eyes and seemed to drift into a light sleep as she listened to her daughter's voice.

Naomi glanced at Kitty's dozing form worriedly, then met Trifine's gaze with a sad smile. Naomi, like Kitty, had lost most of her children to premature death, and now Barnabas and little Sarah were the only ones left. "I always adored your mother," Naomi said once Trifine had finished the lai. "She had such spirit, such life in her. And now…now _this_." Naomi's voice quavered. "Whatever happens, you will always have a home here, Trifine."

Trifine set the book aside and sprang up from the bergere. "Oh, Grandaunt—that's very kind of you! You and Granduncle Roger and Granduncle Jeremiah have been nothing but kind to Maman and me…I only wish that I could return the favor."

"I'm sure you will, Trifine," Naomi said, "many times over." Naomi squeezed the girl's hand before letting it go. She rose from her own chair and went to the chaise upon which Kitty slept, pulling the light blanket down so that it covered the ill woman's feet. She took the sketches from Kitty's hands, setting them on the small table beside the chaise. Trifine bent to take a look at them. One was of Naomi working on her needlepoint as she had earlier today, and still another was of Trifine and Sarah sitting on the bench in the back garden bent over a volume of Madame d'Aulnoy's fairy tales, Choupette curled against their feet.

"She still draws," Naomi murmured. "She has always had an excellent eye."

"I've never been able to draw anything," Trifine said, putting the sketches down. "Not like she can, anyhow."

"We can't be accomplished in everything, Trifine." Naomi picked up her needlepoint and Trifine fetched her book, and they left the sitting room so that Kitty could sleep undisturbed.

"Mrs. Collins." One of the maids appeared from around the corner. "Master Barnabas has just returned. He is in the study with Mr. Collins and Master Jeremiah."

"We'll wait for him in the parlor," Naomi said decisively. "Madame de Kermerrac is asleep in the sitting room and is not to be disturbed. Mademoiselle de Kermerrac will look in on her from time to time. Please bring tea and scones for us. I will fetch Miss Sarah when all is ready." The maid nodded and went to the kitchen to see to the collation while Naomi led Trifine to the parlor.

"I could fetch Sarah, if needed," Trifine offered.

"My dear girl, it's been some time since you've seen your cousin…and he has news of your father. I would prefer Sarah _not_ hear of that." Naomi indicated the place she ought to take on the sofa.

"Of course," Trifine replied, perching on the edge of the seat. She folded her hands together to keep them from trembling.

_He has news of Papa. We'll finally find out about Papa._

Trifine rose when Barnabas entered the room. He first went to his mother, kissing her on the cheek. "Mother."

"How was your journey?"

"It wasn't an unpleasant one. I am glad to be home." His dark eyes landed on Trifine. "And is this little cousin Trifine?" He approached her and took her hands into his, kissing her on the cheek.

"Cousine," she corrected archly. "And I'm not so little anymore."

"No, you're not. You've grown up splendidly. Where is Cousin Kitty, Mother?" Barnabas said to Naomi.

"She fell asleep in the sitting room. You can see her when she awakes," Naomi replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Barnabas, I would like to bring Sarah down for tea. She'll be thrilled to see you. The two of you will be all right by yourselves for a moment—won't you?"

"Oh, yes," Trifine said quickly, though she wished she had held her tongue once she words had left her mouth.

"I'm sure we can keep ourselves occupied," Barnabas added. "There is much we can discuss, cousine. Where do we start?"

Naomi smiled, leaving the two of them alone in the room. Barnabas took a seat in the chair beside the sofa Trifine once again occupied. "I suppose we should start with the one question you are burning to ask, cousine. Monsieur du Pres was able to use his connections to find news of your father for me."

"And?" Trifine said, leaning forward. "What do you know of Papa?"

Barnabas's face became graver than normal. "Your father was suspected of being suspect, or was under suspicion of being a royalist. He was arrested in December and, as of March, has been languishing in Sainte-Pélagie Prison."

Trifine's eyes began to burn with unshed tears. She inhaled shakily and swallowed her sobs. "Prison! Will they release him?"

"Monsieur du Pres does not believe so, but I wrote to the American consul in Paris to see what, if anything, he can do. My father is drafting a letter this instant to some friends of his who have some influence, but there is little that can be done right now except to wait and hope." Barnabas smiled wanly. "I'm truly sorry, cousine. I would give anything so that you and your family wouldn't have to suffer the ill effects of this."

Trifine rose, her hands shaking. The whispered farewell in the air, the feeling of a cold metal blade at the back of her neck, it all made sense.

_Papa is dead. We just have yet to receive confirmation of it._

"I will have to tell my mother," Trifine heard herself say. "Her heart will break…It could very well kill her…"

"You needn't tell her yet, Trifine. Perhaps it would be best to delay telling her-or even the rest of the family anything-until we are certain of whether or not he will be released." She felt his hand on her shoulder, lightly, tentatively, almost as though he didn't think he should be offering such a gesture of consolation.

"Who knows?" Trifine asked him, turning to face him.

"My father and your grandfather know; I was able to dispatch a letter to Baltimore when I arrived in Boston. But other than that, no one else. Would you prefer that it remain that way?"

"For now, yes. Until we know more." She took his hand into hers. "Thank you for all you have done, Cousin Barnabas. It means very much to me."

"We're family, cousine," Barnabas replied, smiling wanly. "Your parents always opened up their home to me whenever I visited France, even when they were at court. There were times when I felt more welcome in that house than I ever have at Collinwood. If this is one way I can repay them for their kindness, I would do it a thousand times over."

When they heard Sarah cry out her brother's name in excitement as she bounded down the stairs, they both laughed. "I suppose I ought to put on my best face," Trifine said with a watery smile. "I wouldn't want Sarah to see me crying into my tea."

"No," Barnabas said. "She thinks of you as very elegant, as she said in her last letter. Crying into your tea would be very inelegant, indeed."

And Trifine could not agree with him more.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Dark Shadows,**_** but all original characters are mine.**

**Author's Note: At this point, Barnabas is still unsure of Josette's affections, but he bears a terrible secret: his tryst with Angelique. Josette will, of course, make her feelings clear, but not until after the summer of 1794 during which Barnabas courts Trifine. All events set in stone will follow, but somehow, after he becomes a vampire, I think Barnabas would be kicking himself just a tiny bit and wishing that he never returned to Martinique and courted and married his cousin instead. And yes, more hints will be dropped as to what Trifine really is. I will explain the different spellings of the Dupres surname throughout the story.**

**The Thread of the Thing**

**Chapter Four**

Chapter Song: _Chances, _by Five for Fighting

The possibility of his son's marriage to Trifine once she was of age had crossed Joshua's mind more than once, and admittedly, though he had been concerned about his niece's health, he was more concerned about how the present situation could affect the family business. Even if the de Kemerrac interests floundered or were seized by the new provisional government, there was still the possibility of expanding the business to Baltimore. William Colegate was well connected with the wealthy merchants of Baltimore, including William Patterson, who was the second wealthiest man in Baltimore. Joshua could see the possibilities in his mind's eye, though he cringed at the idea of Barnabas becoming a complacent country squire when Trifine inherited her grandfather's property.

Joshua had broached the subject with William once more before the gentleman farmer had left, and William had beaten around the bush with, "Barnabas should ask Kitty's permission to court the girl, and of course it would have to be a long engagement…She is still quite young, you see."

Joshua thought William's reasoning to be preposterous. There were plenty of girls who married at Trifine's age, who even bore children. No, William simply didn't relish the idea of his granddaughter marrying a man so much older than she, particularly someone like Barnabas. And there was always the possibility that France's monarchy might be restored within the year, something which Joshua highly doubted for all of the pretty words he had spoken to William and Kitty.

"But isn't there an understanding between him and a little _martiniquaise_?" Kitty said as she leaned against the cushions of the chaise that had been carried out for her and placed close to the edge of Widows' Hill so that she might catch the best of the sea air.

"Family duty would outweigh any understanding between Barnabas and Josette du Pres. He has admitted to me that he doubts the girl's affections for him; she has made nothing clear."

"But wouldn't the family consider it a slight?" Kitty persisted.

"Family duty is never a slight, Kitty."

Kitty sighed wearily, watching as Trifine sauntered across the lawn with Sarah at her side, a book in hand, and that annoying little pug at her skirts.

"A marriage to Barnabas would secure Trifine's future," Kitty reflected, closing her dark blue eyes and letting the eternally worried expression that often crumpled her brow fade. "He would adore her and protect her. She would be his darling."

"And Trifine has such a capacity for love. She has such a light about her, the same light your mother did."

"I will admit Laurent and I spoiled her, Joshua—after the boys died, she was all we had left. Laurent channeled all of the love he had borne for the boys into a love for her. I love her, but I can't forget my boys, my little boys with their little hands and their sweetness! Don't you know, I see them sometimes, and they call for me…" Kitty's breath became short, and she began to cough again. Joshua offered her his handkerchief, and once she was done coughing into it, he noted the darkness of the blood on it.

Black blood. Clotted blood.

_It won't be long now. Poor Kitty, coughing up your lungs and longing for your dead little boys and wishing for the best for your daughter._

"If Barnabas courts her," Kitty resumed, "tell him to be gentle with her—she is still a child! And he ought to wait awhile, until she is seventeen—oh, yes, a long engagement would be best, Uncle! I might not live to see her married, but at least with Barnabas, she will be cared for and happy. He is good, Uncle, and would never be cruel to her. And her father…Laurent might not approve right away, but he will come around. You shall see!"

_She will need opiates before long. All will be well, Kitty. Barnabas will be a good husband to Trifine. And we will be able to reap the benefits from whatever connections she might have._

"Maman." Trifine almost dropped her book as she rushed to her mother's side. "You were coughing again. Is everything all right?"

"Of course, darling!" Kitty took Trifine's hands into hers and kissed her wrists. "You are such a dear girl, such a sweeting. Don't worry, all will be well. Now what book is that? Oh, how wonderful—_Aucassin et Nicolette_! Read to us, darling! Come here, Sarah, as Trifine reads!"

All three women lapsed into French, and Joshua, with an amateur grasp of the language, left them there. The sweetness of the moment was too much for him, and he allowed his niece those last memorable moments with her daughter.

* * *

"Trifine?" Barnabas exclaimed. "Little Trifine?"

"Why not?" Joshua said evenly. "You said you weren't sure of Josette's feelings for you…"

"But _Trifine…"_

"She is no longer a child, Barnabas. In a way, it makes sense for all involved. Kitty is dying, Laurent is as good as dead, and William Colegate will not live much longer. Though Trifine does not bear our name, she is still a Collins, and it is up to us to ensure she will be well taken care of."

"I have known her since she was a child. I remember how proud Kitty was when Trifine was learning to walk…"

"What does that matter? Really, Barnabas, you are all too sentimental! It would be a long engagement, for Kitty and William wish for the girl to be seventeen when she marries. Barnabas, the girl adores you…"

"As a cousin." Barnabas scowled down at the top of his wolfshead cane.

"Then strive to be more to her."

"And Josette?"

Joshua waved his hand dismissively. "The girl has not been clear about her feelings for you, as you have said. I'm sure she would be understanding of your marriage to your young cousin."

"And Andre du Pres?" Barnabas demanded. "What will you tell him?"

"I will concern myself with _that_. See to Trifine, Barnabas. Court her, make her adore you as a wife would a husband. She is a lovely girl, and it would be a shame if you allowed her to slip away."

"And if Kitty should object?" Barnabas ventured.

"Kitty does not object. Barnabas, Trifine is a sweet, bright girl, and think of the possibilities she offers! Barnabas, you could be a _baron_. The government in France could change at the blink of an eye!"

"But she's still a child!" Barnabas persisted. "Father, what would it mean to the business if I jilted Josette and married Trifine after a few years?"

Joshua glared at his son. "It would mean family duty, Barnabas. The du Pres family understands that all too well. Barnabas, it's _Trifine_. She would adore you, if you would let her."

"She's but my cousin!"

"Then strive to be more to her! Strive to love her as you would a wife, and strive to make her love you as she would a husband! Think of the advantages; Trifine has been very educated, so much more so than any other women you might meet. What was fashionable in France was never fashionable here…And she was raised with the children of France and has connections to the _ancient regime. _Think of that."

"You would ask me to marry without love?" Barnabas demanded quietly. "Well, then, give me the summer. I will court Trifine, but if she doesn't return my affections and if she rejects my proposal of marriage, then I will return to Martinique immediately to pursue Josette."

Joshua was astonished. "You would court your cousin—and possibly marry her?"

"I would do as you asked," Barnabas said, rising from his chair, "so long as you would give me the allowance I have asked for. If I were to court Trifine, and if she were to return my affections and accept my marriage proposal, I would wait for her and not return to Martinique."

"Why. Barnabas," Joshua said, "whatever has come over you?"

Barnabas snatched up his cane, regarding his father defiantly. "You seem to place all of your bets on what _might_ happen instead of what _will_ happen, Father. Trifine might accept my proposal of marriage, but Josette du Pres will be my wife, if she will have me!"

And Joshua was unsure of what to make of this as his son left him, but somehow, he took Barnabas's word. 

* * *

"Really, Maman!" Trifine exclaimed, springing up from the edge of Kitty's bed. "Cousin Barnabas! But he's so _old —_and so brooding! One never knows what he's thinking! And he has always teased me so!"

"Darling, he has adored you since you were a child. And he is family, and you will be well provided for. It _is _a good match, when you think of all of the circumstances involved."

"Still, Maman! Has no one asked me about what _I_ would want?"

"What would you want, Trifine?" Kitty coughed delicately into a fresh handkerchief.

"I would like to return to France, and be a baronne, and marry for love!" Trifine declared, turning to Kitty with clasped hands.

"Darling, you know that can never be—at least not now!" Kitty soothed as Trifine came once more to her side. She brushed a lock of burnished hair out of her daughter's face. "Even if the king and queen were alive and were still ruling, there would still be a chance you would have to marry without love. That is how such things are, darling."

"But you married Papa for love!""

"Yes, I did, but…"

"What does Grandpapa say?"

"He approves of the match as well. Sweetheart, don't think we'll make you marry him tomorrow! We have agreed that he will spend this summer courting you, and it is up to you whether or not to accept his marriage proposal."

"Papa wouldn't like it," Trifine sniffed, tossing her head.

"Your father _would_ like it, Trifine. A marriage to Barnabas was always a possibility." Kitty moved over as Trifine lay down beside her again. "Think of all of the lovely things you would have with Barnabas. Why, the world would be your oyster with him, and I am sure he would do all he could to find the rarest pearl so that he could give it to you and see you happy."

"I don't know what you mean by _that_, Maman. And anyhow, I hate oysters."

"I'm sure Barnabas would understand if you hated oysters…and that he would find something else to catch your fancy." Kitty closed her eyes. "Just give him the summer, darling. If you find you don't like him enough to marry him, then I'm sure you will find someone among the _émigré_ sons or even among the merchants' sons of Baltimore."

Trifine kissed Kitty good night and rose from the bed. "You 're falling asleep, Maman. I ought to go."

Kitty's eyes opened briefly, and she smiled at Trifine wanly. "Good night, darling."

"Good night, Maman." And Trifine felt a shiver up her spine that chilled her bones. As she made her way down the hallway to her own bedroom, she could hear her mother's muffled sobs. 

* * *

The following afternoon, Barnabas found Trifine sitting at the new pianoforte that had been ordered from Boston for Sarah. She was going through some of the sheet music and finally found one that suited her, a sonata by Mozart.

"You like Mozart?" he asked her as he entered the room, taking a seat in the chair beside the piano. She watched him.

"Yes," she replied, turning to him. "I do enjoy Bach, too."

"And your favorite song by Mozart?" Barnabas persisted.

"_Rondo alla Turka," _Trifie replied. "That was one of Papa's favorites."

_Was._ Before, she had spoken of her father in the present tense. "I'm sure we'll hear news of him soon, Trifine. Take heart, my dear," he assured her, and she eyed him levelly.

"Don't give me false hopes, Barnabas. He has been imprisoned and no doubt he will face trial and be sent to the guillotine. That is, if he hasn't already," she added, her voice suddenly growing thick with sadness. She turned away from him, blinking quickly. "Shall I play?"

"Please—and indulge me by playing the song your father loved so," he replied, sitting back in the chair.

He watched her as she became absorbed in the song, as her fingers flew across the keys. She seemed to relax at the familiarity of the song and the memories that came along with it. There was no doubt that she felt lost, forced to come to a new country because the world she had once known and imploded and fallen apart around her, bearing witness to her mother slowly wasting away, not knowing if she would ever see her father again. She had never asked for her life to turn out this way.

He _could_ love her, he supposed; if not, he could give her the life she deserved and make her the mistress of Collinwood. She also stood to inherit William Colegate's property, and the tobacco grown on the Colegate land was a small treasure in and of itself. Yes, it _would _be a long engagement, but if he married Trifine, he wouldn't have to return to Martinique. He could leave all of it—Josette and the uncertainty of her affections for him and the terrible mistake he had made—behind him.

Once Trifine had finished playing the song, she turned to face him. "Would you like me to play something else?" she asked him.

He started from his reverie. "No, Trifine…One is enough. Would you like to take a turn about the garden with me?"

"Shouldn't we be chaperoned?" Trifine riposted, her eyes sparkling. "Perhaps Grandaunt Abigail is free?"

She was playing a game with him. "You would like a chaperone?" he queried.

"It's only proper," she said matter-of-factly, rising from her seat in front of the pianoforte. "She's in the sitting room. I can fetch her. That is," she said, pausing at the threshold of the room, "if you'd care that it be her. Or perhaps we can wait until tomorrow…"

"No, I think she will be a very satisfactory chaperone. She will do her utmost to protect your reputation," he replied lightly. "Shall I meet you two in the garden in a few moments?"

Her eyes widened a bit. "Yes," she said quickly. "I'll have to get my hat and shawl, but I won't be long." And she darted out of the parlor and hurried to the sitting room to appeal to her grandaunt. 

* * *

"This is most improper, Barnabas!" Abigail scolded her nephew as she sat on the bench in the garden with her sewing basket in hand. "What fancy have you taken into your head this time? Trifine isn't fit to become mistress of Collinwood…"

"According to my father, she is," Barnabas retorted. "She is a lovely girl, Abigail."

"There's something wrong with the girl, Barnabas. I can't put my finger on it, but there's something _very wrong _with her. She's much too clever for her own good."

"A pity you think so, Abigail, for I would prefer a clever wife. And Trifine is _very _clever..."

"Of course you would be captivated by her pretty face, charming manners, and _cleverness_," Abigail jibed. "It would seem none of the girls around here are enough for you."

"If you're that concerned about my nuptials, perhaps you ought to speak to my father. In the meantime, be good enough to _not_ mention those concerns to Trifine."

Trifine emerged from the house a few moments later, wearing a straw hat decorated with a ribbon around the brim that matched the light blue of her _robe à la turque._ She acknowledged Abigail, who nodded at her briefly, then came to Barnabas's side.

"I've just been given a letter from Grandpapa that arrived this morning," Trifine said, lowering her voice so that Abigail couldn't hear. "Papa had some of his papers smuggled out of France before he was arrested…and family documents. There are so many family documents! Grandpapa is having some of them sent to me here."

"That should prove to be quite enlightening for you," Barnabas remarked. "And it should keep your mind off of more tragic things."

"Yes," she said. "I suppose they will. But I was wondering if you would like to help me go through them. That is, if you're not too occupied with the business."

She glanced up at him earnestly, and he saw in that moment how very pretty she really was. Yes, he thought, he _could _see himself loving her.

"Why wouldn't I help you with that, Trifine?" he asked her, taking her gloved hand and tucking it into his elbow. "Whatever is in those documents will no doubt prove to be very diverting."

She smiled up at him. "So tell me about Martinique, Barnabas. Spare me no details, I should like to hear of all of it!" she prodded.

He began to tell her of the time he had spent in Martinique, but there was one detail that he was very careful to leave out.


End file.
